


love doesn't discriminate-

by adnyx



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (?), Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Unrequited Love, more to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-14 22:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14778134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adnyx/pseuds/adnyx
Summary: -between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes-Worlds and universes apart, John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton find their ways to meet.(or: a Lams one-shot collection.)





	1. Black Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: "you're really short and cute and you buy a cup of black coffee every morning but you make weird faces as you sip it and you never finish your drink are you trying to look mature or something"
> 
> but there was also some improvisation on my side so ;) ;) ;)
> 
> (i tried blease have mercy on me)

“House roast. Venti.” the short man asks with a dissatisfied frown that he seemingly dons every morning; every time John saw him, he looked exactly the same. He was somewhat angry, (but still cute!) messy, with a MacBook under his arm and a long scarf wrapped around his neck.  So every morning he came up, ordered a large cup of black coffee, and sat right in front of Laurens, looking awfully infuriated while working.

“Here you go, sir.” John gives him a toothy, polite grin, and for a second he thought he saw the man blushing – but he guessed he was wrong. It was too bad the guy never ordered anything like a Frapp so Laurens could, perhaps, write his number down on his cup or at least get the man’s name. Despite his messy looks, his somewhat long hair framed his face just downright _perfectly_ , and his short stature as well as a facial expressions constantly filled with rage made John have a single word on his mind for him: _cute._

It’s usually empty here in the morning – 6 AM especially – but surprisingly, a few more people came in today. Some _Angelica,_ who ordered a Venti chai latte, and an _Aaron,_ who went with the surprisingly classic caramel Frappuccino.  They seemed to know the short guy for whom John _definitely wasn’t pining for_ , as they sat together and talked about something.

“Ya mad that you don’t get to ogle the guy like you do every morning?” Hercules creeps up behind him, almost making John fall over as he pretended not to watch the said man. His co-worker was always the life of the party and loved to tease his friends, but damn, wasn’t this too much? He swears everyone in the café, that cute guy included, had just heard Hercules say that out loud.

“Shuddup, Mulligan.”

He wasn’t blushing, oh no, excuse you. He was just… mad, as mad as his daily customer usually was. Speaking of him, right at that moment, John noticed the man stare at him. (That didn’t make him blush more at all, _duh.)_ It seemed those mysterious Aaron and Angelica didn’t help the guy either, because he flushed violently after whatever they’ve told him, and in no moment did Laurens proceed to gaze at him again.

 _“Come on, Alex,”_ Angelica said loudly, (loud enough for John to hear, at best.) nudging _Alex_ in the side with her elbow. Alright, so now he knows his name…

 _“We all know you’ve been staring at the barista for an eternity, Hamilton.”_ Aaron grins at Alex. _Alex Hamilton…_ (Wow, John, what a good job of not being creepy you’re doing.)

Alex says something back in response, which honestly sounds as if he’s about to either punch or bite Aaron, and, seemingly holding a grudge against both of his friends, finally remembers about the coffee. Making a brave face, he holds the cup with both of his hands. _Cute,_ John thinks before he realizes what’s about to happen. Hamilton takes a sip of the coffee; it’s fine at first, but Laurens knows what happens next. He had to witness it the first couple of times before the customer stopped pushing past his own limits. A few more sips follow, and then Alex’s face turns sour, and-

_“Sir-“_

John grabs a few tissues before the inevitable comes, and it does come – Alex chokes on his coffee, spewing it out a little bit. Laurens cleans up on the floor as Hamilton coughs, and then _spits coffee onto him_ , and Aaron watches in amused horror while Angelica is probably stunned speechless.

“Sir, are you alright?” Laurens gets the liquid out of his hair, (literally.) looking up just to see Hamilton blush in embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry, mister-“ his gaze lingers on John’s body for a second, and it takes him a moment to realize he was trying to read the name on his badge, “-John… Maybe, maybe I can make it up to you somehow?”

Alex wipes something, presumably coffee, off of Laurens’s cheek. He feels his face grow hotter.

“No need to, really.”

“He was asking you out, come on!” Angelica sips her latte lazily, looking unimpressed and far less delighted at the scene unfolding right in front of her if compared to Aaron, who was still chuckling. “You’ve been staring at each other for this entire morning.”

“I’m afraid I can’t bear any more sexual tension today.” Her friend nods, trying to get the caramel syrup out of his Frappuccino. Alex sputters.

“M-My name is-“

“-Alex Hamilton,” John finishes for him; after the latter’s eyes widen, he realizes how _creepy_ does he sound. “I mean, I’ve heard your friends over here call you that.”

“Well, you’re close.” he laughs, and John thinks this is one of the sweetest things in the entire world. Sweeter than some stupid Frapp. “I’m Alexander Hamilton.” He reaches his palm out for a handshake, and so does John.

“John Laurens. Great to meetcha.”

“So are you free this evening?” Alexander raises his eyebrows, grinning smugly. Suddenly, the awkward aura around Hamilton dissolves. He thinks he hears Aaron call him a tomcat in the background.

“I am. Tonight, too.”

Aaron wiggles his eyebrows. Angelica sighs in relief.

***

Three years later, John lies down on the couch of their shared apartment.

“So why did you use to drink black coffee all the time if ya couldn’t even bear it?” Laurens cuddles up to Alexander, who is sitting next to him and working on his laptop. The evening is calm and peaceful; they declined to go out with Lafayette and Mulligan tonight, preferring the tranquility of their own home to some bar or pub their friends found for the celebration of their anniversary.

“Pfft, you wouldn’t understand it.” Hamilton pretends to act bossy before taking another sip from the cup of latte John had brewed for him. “I’m thriving with fury constantly. I like my coffee same as my soul.”

“That’s edgy.” Laurens laughs, lying down in his boyfriend’s lap, choosing not to point out that he was currently drinking a cup of coffee which consisted of milk more than caffeine.

 


	2. Before Yorktown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurens isn't in South Carolina. Yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM BACK!! written for a(n rp) starter:
> 
> "i didnt know love existed until i met you."
> 
> this is actually canon-verse (the musical ig) and...... i just wanted an excuse to write (angsty-ish?) fluff im sorry :'')

“I didn’t know love existed until I met you.”

Alexander smiles softly, voice hushed and gentler than he usually is; right now, there is no place for the loudmouthed, outspoken Hamilton everyone else knew. Washington, Burr, Lafayette, Mulligan: all of them would describe Alex as someone brash and ready for a fight, be it flying fists or furious letters exchanged. He doesn’t know if John was surprised to find a new, affectionate side to the bastard immigrant who grew to be his friend and lover, but he himself wasn’t entirely aware he could be like that.

Laurens doesn’t answer at first; instead, he laces their fingers together. They’re sharing a bed tonight, the first time they’ve done so after his marriage to Eliza. He looks at Hamilton amorously, burying his face in the crook of Alex’s neck – in reply, the latter wraps his arms around John’s shoulders.

“What about Eliza, then?” he speaks up all of a sudden, words muffled. Alexander purses his lips, embracing his lover further; Eliza was by no means awful. He loved how sweet she was, her family was amazing, and, all in all, Elizabeth Schuyler (now Hamilton.) was the perfect bride. If he hadn’t met Laurens, he thinks to himself, he would’ve truly fallen in love with that girl.

But now, his heart belonged to John Laurens.

“…You know my opinion on that matter.” He tries to grin, to lighten up the mood somehow; they have talked about this, about the Schuyler sisters and that winter ball, and now both of them were married but secretly being outlaws. Alexander wonders idly if someday this love won’t be banned anymore. He thinks briefly of trying to change the constitution somehow, or make an amendment about this, but he can’t change the world’s thoughts on this topic. No matter how hard he tries.

“When’re you going to Yorktown?”

“Soon. What about your black battalion?” John chuckles at that, sliding down and now pressing his face against Hamilton’s chest. The latter doesn’t want this moment to ever end: strangely enough, now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t want to go out and fight all that much. He’s been aching for a command to lead, and Washington has been denying it for too long; it feels like he was drawn to the thought of dying in glory just because he wasn’t allowed to do that.

Nevertheless, he isn’t going to back out the last moment. _Hamilton won’t abandon ship_ , still; he’ll have to go and take Yorktown, meet his newborn son, and Laurens will go and recruit soldiers black and white alike to go out there and be heroes. That sounds nice.

“Same answer.”

John wraps himself out of Hamilton’s embrace and instead sits up on the bed to face Alexander. His hair pools around his head like a halo on his pillow; Laurens runs his hands through his hair.

“Don’t you ever think of how far we’ve come?” the shorter man asks, looking up at his ally-turned-lover. “Don’t you ever think of what’s more to come?”

“Since when are you the one to rhyme?” John smiles, shooting back an even better question instead of a reply.

They don’t talk much after this, instead spending the night deep in thought, in each other’s arms. Alex can’t bring himself to say anything: it just feels wrong, superfluous to break the comfortable silence hanging in the air above them. Neither man shares much of his musings, nor can he fight the anxious churning of his stomach. It feels as though both of them are breaking character, with no witty remarks on Alexander’s behalf and John silent. Until words start falling out of the former’s mouth.

“Something’s goin’ to happen, John.” Hamilton bites on his lip, eyes wide open and staring at the floor. “No idea what is that, but it can’t be anything good.”

Laurens is uncharacteristically quiet. “Come,” he says, and Alex does.

They kiss slowly, without their usual hurry, taking in the feeling, scent, breath of each other; completely aware this might be the last time they would be doing this.

When the sun rises up, so do they.

***

Henry Laurens writes him a letter a few weeks later, and Eliza is the one reading this to him outloud.

_"On Tuesday the 27th, my son was killed in a gunfight against British troops retreating from South Carolina. The war was already over. As you know, John dreamed of emancipating and recruiting 3000 men for the first all-black military regiment_

_His dream of freedom for these men dies with him."_

This can’t be it. This can’t be. Those soft lips won’t touch his again, those calloused hands won’t touch his again, that loud voice will never sing along with him again—

Work. He has work to do. For Laurens, for everyone who died…

“Alexander. Are you alright?”

Work. He has work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kind of unbeta'd so... uh,,,,,, please be so kind as to point out whatever mistakes i made 
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoyed this! and if you ever have a prompt idea for this collection or want to hit me up, my tumblr is wakandaforsometime!
> 
> (once again, comments and constructive criticism are more than welcome~!)


	3. But You Don't Love Me the Way that I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> introspection and unrequited love on hamilton's side. laurens had left a while ago. ft. the famous letter.  
> (historical verse.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup, im alivee  
> [not beta-read.]

_Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love you._   
  
How many sleepless nights were spent thinking about Laurens and his soft skin? How many letters were victims to Hamilton accidentally spilling ink pots on them while imagining Laurens' embrace? His fingers, mouth, skin on skin, chest flushed to chest, smooth flesh underneath Alexander's fingers? Longing, longing, longing. That's everything Hamilton ever did to Laurens.   
  
Laurens' eyelashes flutter perfectly, dreamily, fairy-like; his jawline is broad and sharp. His voice is thick, words eloquent and pleasant pouring from his mouth like a cieve. And oh, that mouth - red, dry lips, redder when he dares lick them. Why can't he put his mouth to a better use than talk? Why can't he put them on Alexander's mouth, or, better yet, body?   
  
Laurens, with his handsome face. His cheeks flush pink when he notices Hamilton's approval of his writing and the letters he pens in Washington's stead (like all of them do, but there's something special about Laurens.) His usual expression is one of tranquility to counter Hamilton's hyperactivity; they contrast each other perfectly.   
  
Why? Why is simple love outlawed? Alexander never thought himself to be... like that, but he realized, quite recently, that the male body attracts him as much as does the female. He never forgave himself for that, but how is he to do that when such a beautiful distraction is in his way?   
  
Laurens was usually calm, polite, and could hold his tongue whenever he wanted to - Alexander's total opposite. But does that matter to love? No. John's wits are sharp and quick, and he uses them just like he uses his quill - and he does that simultaneously, in tandem. Oh, John Laurens. Alexander Hamilton's heartthrob; his heartache _._   
_  
_ _I shall only tell you that 'till you bade us Adieu, I hardly knew the value you had taught my heart to set upon you. Indeed, my friend, it was not well done. You know the opinion I entertain of mankind, and how much it is my desire to preserve myself free from particular attachments, and to keep my happiness independent on the caprice of others._

Humanity is, softly speaking, disgusting. Don't get him wrong - it isn't always like that! It's just that the world is filled with despicable, awful people. And no one can do anything about that. (Except cut them with your wits and watch them metaphorically bleed. Amazing, or is it?)

He only found out what missing someone felt like after Laurens departed. Longing, pining, whatever word will he come up with in a moment will not reflect the depth of his emotions, for it is more than that; such a situation never happened to Alexander before. Why did Laurens find a place so deep in Hamilton's heart?

John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton were like water and fire, respectively. Calm and amiable and somewhat cold; equanimity itself. Passionate and aggressive and hot-headed; fiery but witty. That's what they are, a clash of colors in a boom. Alexander thinks they would be beautiful together.

But life doesn't want them to. Laurens doesn't want them to. He is married, and has a fine girl waiting for him overseas with a child. He wonders how does John's daughter look - is she like the woman Hamilton will never know, or does she have her father's crystal blue eyes?

He can feel his heart crumble. Laurens is everything he ever wanted: intelligent, aesthetically appealing, with a personality soothing like a vulnerary. Hamilton, on the other hand, is probably someone Laurens would never want. Ever.

But he loved him. Alexander Hamilton loved John Laurens.

_You should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent._

John Laurens, in turn, did not love Alexander Hamilton.

But that's alright, he'll be just fine. He shall fare just fine. The Continental Army shall win, the Congress shall grant Americans the independence they deserve, and Hamilton and Laurens shall part their ways. Or maybe they won't - maybe they won't be separated by the damned sea, perhaps they’ll be chained forever by the power of immense friendship and camaraderie… That's not what Hamilton wants, but that's the best he can wish for.

Or maybe one of them - or both - will die in the war. Maybe the Brits will win this. ( _No, they won't!_ Alexander tells himself. They aren't fighting for nothing!)

 

George Washington will be president. Peace will come. Everything is going to be perfect for those lands and the people, that's what they fight for right now. Hamilton, Laurens, Lafayette, Tilghman and everyone - troops, generals, fellow aides-de-camp - shall find their place in the new world, a world turned upside down. Peace will come to America.

 

_But as you have done it and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on condition that for my sake, if not for your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me._

  
Yet love will not come to Alexander Hamilton.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally wrote this in music class im sorry if this is stupid

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! constructive criticism is more than welcome.


End file.
